Around the Block Again
by KS Romantic
Summary: Shelby Powell, allows her best friend to whisk her away to see their all-time favorite singing group, Boys from the Block, in concert. What neither of them expects is for "bad boy" band-member, Dean Walden, to show a romantic interest in Shelby. *Names, songs, content changed for legal safety. Currently self-published. Great for NKOTB fans. Enjoy figuring out the characters:
1. Chapter 1

**Track **_O_**NE**

The phone on the bedside table rang. Shelby considered letting it ring. It would be so easy to ignore the shrill sound and when it finally stopped, she would then be able to sleep the day away in peace.

Instead, with eyes still closed, she reached out from under her blankets and picked the receiver up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

There was a quick laugh and then the playfully reprimanding voice of her best friend, Kaye Munson, sounded on the other end of the line. "Shelby Powell, you're still in bed, aren't you?"

Opening one eye, Shelby glanced at the red numbers on the clock beside her bed and grumbled, "It's only two-thirty. I've still got plenty of daylight to waste."

"Wrong." Kaye announced in her decisively forthright manner. "You've got twenty minutes before I pick you up."

"For what? I'm quite happy where I am."

"It's a surprise."

"Just get up, get dressed, and brush your teeth. I'll tell you about it over a late lunch, my treat." Kaye didn't wait for a reply, but hung up the phone.

Briefly, Shelby wondered how long Kaye would beat on the front door of her house if she didn't answer immediately answer her beckoning thuds.

Then, Shelby remembered that her best friend had a spare key and, knowing Kaye, Shelby realized that if she _didn't_ do as requested, she would very likely be dragged outside in the scraggly tee shirt and sweatpants she had worn to bed the night before. _Wouldn't that be the cookie-cutter development hot topic of the week?_

Rolling into motion, Shelby walked sluggishly into the master bath. Stripping off her clothes, she brushed her fingers through her waves of reddish-brown hair and chanced a look at her reflection.

Looking back was a woman Shelby barely recognized anymore.

In just eight years, she had gained almost forty pounds and though she still boasted D-cup breasts, they weren't as _boastful _as they had once been. Skin that had once glowed from regular exercise and fun in the sun now looked splotchy and strained.

Of course, with some attention, she would be presentable and with some exercise, the weight would shed, but was it worth the effort? Who was there to celebrate the work with her?

Disgusted, Shelby stepped into the hot shower.

Maybe this new feeling of dissatisfaction was good. At least it was different from self-pity. It was different from feeling as physically drained as she had after fifteen hours of hard labor to deliver her sweet daughter, Summer. Maybe now this feeling of disgust would give way to determination, determination to hope and hope to—dare she think it—_happiness_.

It was funny how the world could change, an entire life shift and affect so many lives around it. Once upon a time, Shelby's life changed with marriage, a child, a family. It changed with signed-and-sealed divorce papers.

Chad Powell—Shelby's husband of eight years—with his blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes, athletic build and wonderful smile had been unfaithful. Of all things to shift her world, he had decided to leave his family for Dr. Toni Ellenwood, the veterinarian that cared for Summer's new puppy.

Shelby turned off the shower water. She didn't want to begin this thought process again. Grabbing two fluffy white towels, she wrapped her body with one and twirled the other around her hair. Opening the bathroom door, cool air wafted over her skin and Shelby breathed in the scent of coconut—Kaye was here.

Kaye and Shelby had been friends since the seventh grade, when Kaye's healthy obsession for seasonal scents first brought them together. Shelby could clearly remember standing behind Kaye in the cafeteria lunch line and telling her that she smelled like candy canes. That Christmas, Kaye had given Shelby a bottle of apple-scented shampoo and the silly gift-giving tradition had bonded them for life.

Like many female friends, they shared the connection of weight-woes. Throughout their twenty-two year friendship, they struggled between the degrees to which they allowed this issue to matter. Sometime between February and March, the concern was great; August to September tapered to moderate and not at all came wrapped up for the tasty holidays. Then, they would start the New Year fresh and ready to run the gamut again.

No matter her current weight, Kaye was adorable. Her face was heart-shaped and her eyes soft green, topped by fine eyebrows that _never _missed a waxing appointment. Kaye's yellow-blonde hair was thick and though she could pull off just about any style she chose, Kaye kept it cut stylishly short to match her courtroom business attire. All of this was accented with a warm smile, perfect dimples and a contagious laugh, creating an overall package of independence that Shelby often envied.

Now, if only Kaye would slow down from her law-career long enough for a man _without _a court appearance to approach her, she might be able to start a family life of her own. But until then, Shelby was happy to share hers with this soul-warming sister-like friend.

Turning from the self-appointed task of straightening Shelby's rumpled bedding; Kaye faced her friend and grinned. "There, now don't you feel better?"

Shelby wasn't quite ready to give in to her friend's obvious desire to sway her mood, so answered stubbornly, "I _smell_ better."

Fluffing the last pillow, Kaye walked to the other side of the room, drew open the burgundy-colored curtains and ushered sunlight in through the windows. "I'm betting you look better too."

While Kaye continued piddling through her room, Shelby moved to her walk-in closet and dressed in a sky-blue, sleeveless button-down shirt and a pair of white-denim shorts.

"At least you aren't medicated." Kaye called out with characteristic bluntness. "I really expected you would be by now."

Stepping back into the room with a pair of white canvas sneakers in hand, Shelby replied dryly, "Thanks for the boost of confidence."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Kaye replied, "Well, you haven't exactly been yourself lately." The look Shelby threw Kaye as she picked up a hairbrush and pulled it through her wet hair, spoke volumes. Reading her expression, Kaye assured, "I know it's not your fault. I just don't want you to waste anymore time crying over that asshole. He really doesn't deserve it."

Part of Shelby was desperate to cling to her self-brooding. Trying to excuse her recent behavior, she corrected, "No, but _I _do. I need to get over every little detail of our life together."

Kaye shook her head, having trouble with the fact that Shelby would require this reminder. "What you _need_ to _do_ is another man so that you can forget that Chad ever existed in your life."

"A bit difficult considering we share a child." Shelby remarked sardonically, while silently she panicked at the mere thought of such a possibility at this time in her life.

Kaye shrugged. "So on the weekends that he's obligated to play Daddy, you need to do a little _playing _of your own."

Making a noise that was a combination of humor, incredulity, and horror, Shelby declared, "For crying out loud, Kaye, our divorce has only been final for three weeks."

"This is really sad considering that you've been separated for a year longer than that while he was out having fun with the veteri-tramp." Throwing her a don't-even-think-about-lying-to-your-best-friend look, Kaye finished, "So I can venture a pretty fair guess as to how long it's been since you had sex with him."

"I hate it when you sound like a lawyer," Shelby pouted.

She wasn't truly angry with her friend. She had known Kaye long enough to realize she meant well, but had never been able to completely control what came out of her mouth, particularly when speaking to someone she was close to. In a strange sort of way, Kaye's brutal prying was how she showed love.

Returning to the main reason for her visit, Kaye suggested, "Let's go downstairs and eat and I can tell you about the divorce-celebrating surprise I have for you."

"We're not going out?" Shelby didn't do well at hiding the relief from her voice.

Kaye smiled, "I thought you'd rather stay in."

Shelby grumbled, "Then why'd you make me get dressed?"

"So I wouldn't have to smell your B.O. and dragon-breath while I eat."

"You say the nicest things."

"I brought pizza." Kaye's voice was a singsong apology.

Shelby stopped walking toward the door and looked back. "But you don't _like _pizza."

Kaye smiled again. "No, but it's your favorite and I love you."

Shelby tilted her head to the side, studied Kaye a moment and then a slow, sincere smile—the first she could remember expressing in more than a month—covered Shelby's mouth. "You're the best, Kaye."

"And don't you forget it," Kaye replied happily. She then waited while Shelby kicked off the shoes she had recently slipped on and together they walked downstairs toward lunch.

One—okay, _two_—slices of mushroom and sausage pizza later, Shelby slumped back on the couch with a sigh. "I feel a slumber party coming on. Did you bring movies?"

Kaye smiled and set her glass of diet soda on the coaster-protected coffee table. "Better."

Shelby rolled her eyes. "Am I going to need one-dollar bills?"

Kaye laughed. "No, but you are going to need to tell Chad he has to keep Summer for the weekend of August second."

"Kaye, that's just a week away. She's already been with Mom and Dad for three days this week while I . . . _reorganized_ myself. I don't want her to be more effected by the divorce than she already is."

Kaye offered Shelby a sympathetic look. "Hey, I know you're worried about her, but like-it-or-not, Chad gets visitation; Summer needs to get used to her new life. Plus, if you go ahead and set up a rotation, it will look better for you when the custody hearings _really_ start." With a mischievous grin, Kaye added, "Just wait until you see where we're going. That should inspire you to make the arrangements." Sliding off the couch, she moved toward the television and turned on the VCR.

"You need a VCR and not the DVD player to give me a hint? This ought to be good." Shelby teased, though she was becoming more curious by the second.

"Just hush," Kaye demanded, then moved back to the couch, and picked up the remote control.

Despite her recent foul mood, Shelby felt a rush of adrenaline at the distantly familiar sound. When the picture she anticipated colored the screen, the feeling doubled. Memories flooded her mind and not bad ones now, but great ones, fun ones. Memories of the youth that she and Kaye had shared, along with dreams only the truest of friends understood about each other, even if they _were _silly teen-girl dreams.

Boys from the Blockwere an original in the boy-band genre. To many women part of the same generation as Kaye and Shelby, the recent news that they were going on a reunion tour after a sixteen-year break was invigorating. It was a chance for hundreds-of-thousands of people, fans and band members alike, to relive their youth, even if it was only for one night at a loud concert.

Smiling broadly, Shelby looked at Kaye and asked, "You're kidding? Did you _really_ get tickets?"

"Oh, yeah." Kaye said with a bit of bad-girl gravel in her voice. "And not just that, we're going behind the scenes too."

And then it happened. Shelby felt something crack inside her as she burst into a hoot of laughter and squealed like she hadn't in sixteen years. This would be her eighth time seeing this group in concert, but neither she nor Kaye had ever gotten the opportunity to meet them. "_How_ did you manage to get a meet and greet?"

Kaye shook her head negatively. "Not a meet-and-greet; we're going to party with them after the show in Boston."

If anyone had asked Shelby how old she was at that moment, she would have sworn that she was seventeen and the scream she let out proved it. "Their hometown; how did you—?"

"Confidentiality, sweetie," Kaye informed smugly.

"Confidentiality my foot," Shelby exploded with laughter in her tone. "I don't need names, I just want the basics."

"All I can tell you is that a recent client of mine is . . . _connected_ to Boys from the Blockand when I made him very happy by saving him a busload of money, he wanted to show me his appreciation. Naturally, besides my regular fee, I casually mentioned the fact that my dear friend and I were huge fans and the rest is history."

"We are _definitely _having a slumber party tonight!" Shelby informed. "This is great."

Kaye laughed with her friend. "So is seeing you smile."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, honey." Jumping to her feet, Shelby dashed to the nearby basement door and tore down the steps. Thanks to Shelby's fairly anal labeling system, it didn't take long for her to locate the dusty box marked _BFTB_. Dragging the veritable treasure chest from under the steps, she was back and seated beside Kaye again in a matter of minutes.

Pulling up the tucked in flaps holding the container closed, Shelby anticipated, "This is going to be like Christmas."

The first item she pulled out was a black and white silk-screen poster of Boys from the Block_. _The five teens were standing on railroad tracks with the band name labeled overhead in its signature lettering.

"Niiiice." Kaye complimented insincerely.

"Oh and I'm sure all of _your_ memorabilia is tasteful."

"What makes you think I _have_ memorabilia?" Kaye asked with mock disdain.

Shelby chuckled, "Maybe the grocery bag full of videos you brought over to use for your surprise presentation."

"A grocery bag, _not _a box big enough to hold a television." Kaye admonished prudently.

"Please; am I _really_ getting attitude from the girl who was almost twenty before she took down her wall-to-wall, ceiling-covering posters?"

Kaye huffed, "I had good reason."

Shelby's laughter came out like a hoot. "Oh, yes I remember, you had to be prepared on the off chance Boys from the Block needed to park their tour bus in the church parking lot beside your house. And, despite their fortune, the phone and/or toilet on that bus was broken. _Obviously_, it would be _your_ front door they would chose to knock on. Then, after they'd each called to check in with their mother's, then flushed and washed necessarily; Granny would treat them to cookies and milk. With their tummies full, they would naturally ask to see your bedroom, only to discover that you were their last true fan for keeping their faces plastered around you into adulthood."

Kaye's green eyes narrowed. "A _slight_ exaggeration, I believe." Still brooding, she demanded, "Now, shut up and show me what else you have in that damn box."

"Okay." Shelby intoned, not put off in the least.

Next, she pulled out some twin size sheets, decorated with gray-and-black close-ups of each of the boys' faces, encased in teal and bright pink squares. The same colors were used for their signature letter to display their names and that of the group. "I wonder if Summer would like these."

"I can't imagine why not," Kaye replied with sarcasm.

Three different tee shirts with pictures and tour dates printed on them were the next box reveal. There were a few "I love . . ." pins, a pair of red lettered shoe-strings and a black jacket with blue eyes painted on the back replicating, one that Dean had worn. There were VHS tapes—some mass-produced and two that contained programs recorded off of the television—every bit of it was a treasured memory.

Randomly choosing one of the home-recorded tapes, Kaye slid it into the VCR, then returned to the couch saying, "Between the two of us, I think there's certainly enough entertainment to get us through the night."

"Sounds like the best offer I've had in months."

"That's pathetic." Kaye stated sorrowfully and turned her attention toward the television screen. A talk-show host did her best to be heard over the excited fans before turning the show over to the energetic performance of the five boys who danced, sang, and flirted all around the studio.

Shelby couldn't resist the urge to laugh. "Did _we _scream like that over a group of boys we didn't even know?"

Kaye nodded. "Yeah and we're going to do it again real soon."

Shelby smiled brilliantly, though her eyes never averted from the television. "I can hardly wait."

Shelby had just helped Summer into her bath the next evening when the phone rang. Turning the water off before the child was covered in apple-scented bubbles; Shelby went to grab the receiver by her bed.

"Kaye Munson, please." Since Shelby had half expected the call to be from Chad, the matter-of-fact male voice on the other end of the line took her off guard.

"Kaye does not reside here. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Is this—," there was a rustling sound while the gentleman looked for her name, "—Shelby Powell?"

"It is."

"Ms. Munson left your number as a secondary contact."

"For?"

"Any change to the plans for the evening of August second." He had Shelby's full attention now. "Will you please tell her we'll meet up before the concert? I'll let her know the final details for after the show, then."

Shelby sat down on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry, _who _is this?"

The man on the line chuckled. "Sorry, I guess I did forget to mention that; I'm Jared Hite."

Of all the options open to her, Shelby laughed. "_Right_."

"No, _Hite_."

"I heard_ what_ you said, I just don't believe you. I may be gullible, but not by _that _much. Tell Kaye she'll have to do better than this."

"Kaye said you would probably react this way if I had to call you. Maybe that's why she didn't answer her cell phone."

Automatically Shelby replied, "No, its Thursday, court day. Kaye never answers her cell on court day."

"Well, that explains that." Clearing his throat, the man asked, "So you'll see that she gets the message?"

Shelby stopped laughing. "You're really _serious_?" In as laid-back a tone as she could manage, she confirmed, "Let's get this, you want me to tell Kaye we're to meet up with Boys from the Blockmember, the ever-adorably-sexy Jared Hite, before their upcoming concert, you know, just to make some friendly plans to hang out after?"

"You got it," the man agreed with a smile in his voice.

"What, _The Right Touch_?" Shelby teased, using the title from one of the bands biggest hits. When the caller laughed too, she continued in a mocking tone, "Well, in that case, I have a message of my own to be passed on."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, be sure to let Dean know I've been waiting just about half my life to meet him. He'll have no trouble picking me out; I'll be the one spinning in a constant circle, clapping my hands, giggling like a school girl and blubbering like an idiot."

Now the man calling himself Jared Hite laughed loudly. "Great, he eats that stuff up."

Then, in the background of the phone call, a male voice urged, "Wrap it up, J, we got sound check in five."

Instantly, Shelby's mind stopped, reset, and began to run at about three times its normal speed. It wasn't _what_ was said in the whispered reminder: "we got sound check in five; wrap it up, J" that was anything special to Shelby. Rather, it was _how_ it was the voice that spoke—distincly smooth, tinged by a street-wise New England accent. Shelby recognized it instantly; during her entire adult life, she had been able to distinguish it in a split second if she stumbled across an unexpected airing of her favorite "block boy" either on radio stations or on televisions.

unexpected airing of her favorite "block boy." It was a voice that had infiltrated more than her fair amount of dreams over the last twenty years. It was Dean Walden's voice and it was comepletly understandable that Shelby was currently unable to breathe.

She was sure she was having an out of body experience. It wasn't the words Shelby overheard that brought on her strange feeling, but _how_ they sounded—distinct smoothness, a bit of New England street-wise, blended with an unexpectedly soft-spoken tenor.

Shelby would know that voice _anywhere. _

It was Dean Walden's voice and—at least for Shelby—made her lack of breathing completely understandable.

Not attempting to hide his off-phone conversation and unaware of Shelby's momentary loss, Jared replied to the unseen speaker, "I got it." Giving his full attention to the call again, Jared met dead silence. "Ms. Powell?"

Instantly falling back into her body, it took Shelby a mere fifteen seconds to convey the exact level of her mortification while delivering the blubbering idiot within as promised. "Um, Mr. Hite, er, _Jared_? I'm sorry for being so rude. Do you think you might be kind enough to ignore the message that I asked you to pass along? I mean after all, I didn't realize that _Dean_ was _actually_ in the same room with you; not that being on the phone with you isn't _great_, but Dean is—" Shelby paused took a deep breath and fumbled somewhere between wistful-hope and certain-dread, "It _was _him wasn't it?"

"Yes it was." Jared chuckled, "You know, it's pretty impressive that you got that _just_ from hearing him speak in the background."

Thinking back over her years of obsession for Boys from the Block, Shelby mumbled, "Not necessarily." Realizing she couldn't embarrass herself more than she had already, she added, "I think I'm going to be sick now."

Seeming to enjoy her discomfort greatly, Jared promised in a teasing whisper, "Your secret's safe with me, _Perfect Girl_."

With strong chagrin, Shelby begged, "_Please _don't call me that on Saturday."

Jared's teasing continued, "Do you want _Dean_ to call you that?"

"I'm starting to rethink my fan club membership."

Jared laughed, "I hope you're half as entertaining in person as you are on the phone, Ms. Powell."

Shelby covered her face with her free hand. "If I had any kind of sense, I would tell you we've changed our minds about the party and end this call."

"Don't do that." Jared requested sincerely.

Shelby gave a short laugh. "Lucky for you, my sense, or lack thereof, would never in a _million_ years permit me to pass up the opportunity to meet you guys."

"Good, 'cause I can only imagine what a blast you and Kaye are together. And, for what it's worth, we're used to the giddiness."

Shelby paused, feigning consideration, and then remarked, "Nope, that doesn't help at all, but thanks for trying."

Jared laughed. "Not a problem; see you Saturday." The line went silent and Shelby flopped back on her bed, certain that she had just been through the most surreal experience of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Track ****T**W_**O**_

Shelby and Kaye had considered wearing some of the tee shirts they had found packed away. Instead, they decided to go with a more grown up appearance.

Kaye wore a casual summer dress. The top was sleeveless, the waistline was tailored to accentuate the curve of her midsection, and the hem brushed the top of her knees. The smooth material was a soft shade of pink and perfectly matched the color of her slip-on sandals and small handbag she carried with her.

Shelby went with a silky, sky-blue tank top, a pair of tailored black Capri's and backless, black pumps. Her reddish-brown hair was swept up from her neck, a simple silver clip holding the mass loosely.

For the third time since sliding into the private car Jared sent for them, Kaye asked Shelby, "What are we forgetting?"

Drawing her attention from the view of Boston's streets, Shelby replied, "To breathe."

The car carried them through a gate held open by arena security and the pair shared ridiculous smiles and would have squealed in unison if it weren't for the fact that the driver could hear every noise they made. The parking garage beneath the arena held only a few vehicles, most likely belonging to staff and band security, family, and friends.

And, at least for tonight, Shelby and Kaye were part of that elite group.

The car stopped and the driver opened the door for the ladies. Kaye slid out first and Shelby followed behind.

As soon as Shelby stood upright, all feeling left her body; Jared Hite stood beside Kaye dark pants, a light-long-sleeve shirt, and a welcoming smile on his sinfully handsome face. He was definitely just as physically perfect in person as he was in photos.

Giving them a manly once-over, Jared offered, "I'm glad you could make it and ladies, you look great. I get a kick out of seeing all the tee shirts and stuff from back in the day, but there's nothing better than two women dressed in clothes that make them shine."

Kaye and Shelby looked at each other and giggled girlishly, "Thanks, but as you can see, these _women_ will be reduced to _girls_ anytime you compliment us."

"You mean like the first time I walked in your office?" Jared questioned Kaye.

"_What?_ I was completely professional that day," Kaye insisted with forced sincerity.

Jared's laugh mixed with his words. "Yeah, _after _alternating between nervous laughter and shaking your head in amazement for the first three minutes I was there."

"I wasn't _that_ bad," Kaye pouted with half-confidence.

Jared offered her a patronizing smile, then merely turned to Shelby, and revealed his wonderful dimples. "So, Ms. Powell, you ready for this? You know, with Dean actually being in the same room?"

Shelby chose to ignore the simultaneous butterflies, nausea and embarrassment she felt and appreciate the fact that she was _able _to be teased by Jared Hite. Flashing a flirtatious smile right back at him, Shelby took his arm and declared, "Just try and stop me."

The trio then walked arm-in-arm through a heavy metal door, being held open by one of the largest men Shelby had ever seen.

Since Jared had little time to spare as their host, he offered a quick rundown of their plans for later, before passing Kaye and Shelby off to a waiting member of Boys from the Block's security team. The evening delights continued as the women were led to front row seats, earning them glances and stares ranging from moderate curiosity to full out envy.

Many of the original "Blockheads" brought their daughters out for the concert wanting to share the "fandemonium" they had been part of since the late-eighties. This bridging of generations blended with other new fans. Some were here for curiosities sake, others as original and loyal followers, and others still for nothing more than the pure entertainment of any concert.

Then, just as they all wanted . . .

The opening act ended and the buzz grew. Seats that had been empty, started to fill and the sight was amazing. Shelby and Kaye could only imagine what a rush it must be to look out from the stage and know that the overwhelming sea of people were there to hear _you_ perform.

The lights dimmed and the music changed. Then the jumbo-trons came to life and pictures from the past—from the group's original successes—covered the screens. The cheering began in earnest, the sound building like a storm front. The excitement on the floor and in the stands seemed to take on a life of its own. The exhilaration weaved in and out of the fans that had waited years to see their beloved Boys from the Blockagain.

Bass pounded from the enormous speakers and thick fog blasted upward from the highest platform located center/rear-stage. The intro-music began and in unison David, Dean, Jake, Josh and Jared started to sing as they stepped out from the curtain of smoke. The screams that welcomed the guys was ear piercing, charging the atmosphere with energy just as loud, if not louder, than Shelby remembered.

The group moved down the platform by way of stairs, and lined up front-and-center. The opening song, _Solo_, _was_ a slow urban style, blended with their singing voices and punctuated by a smooth, _sexy _smooth, rap section. Shelby was lost watching Dean. The man was a natural performer and he moved around the stage with the same intensity he had given his fans fifteen years before.

Those years seemed to melt away when the guys spun into an oldfavorite, _My __Special Girl_. Shelby couldn't be certain, but she could have sworn Jared winked at them during his stage front audience interaction.

A mix of songs came next, some that Shelby and Kaye knew by heart and some that they had heard only enough times to pick up the chorus. The friends both made mental-notes to learn all of Boys from the Block's newest CD. They would memorize every beat of these new songs, just as they had everything else the group had ever created together in a studio.

A definite audience favorite in the concert was when the guys surprised everyone by taking their places on a stage in the center of the floor seats. The round platform on which they stood turned slowly and was scarcely big enough to hold a baby grand piano and the five guys at the same time. Like performing troopers, they managed it though and thrilled the crowd with their nostalgic tune, _Remember_.

Pictures appeared on the jumbo-trons, displaying loved ones and celebrities who had passed away in the time since Boys from the Blocklast toured. The memorial shifted into the melodic tones of piano keys cuing the fans to the next song, _A Love Forever_. The guys, now dressed in white, preformed this ballad as the audience serenaded the mega-hit directly back to them. More recently recorded songs followed, bringing sexy women on stage to dance with the guys. Shelby and Kaye decided they could have done without that addition.

The next set brought Dean to the solo spot with _Give You_. Whether by coincidence or Jared's evil design, one of the more suggestive parts of this song had Dean kneeling in front of Shelby—she could have stayed there for a lifetime.

With _Gonna Get to You_, the tease ending came and the group left the stage. After the audience chanted loud and long enough, the guys reemerged. The entire arena seemed to move as Boys from the Blockand their fans sang the title track of their largest selling album, _Tough Enough_.

The guys ran around the stage, touching hands, kissing cheeks, and having an overall great time giving their fans a few last minute photo opportunities. With a final bow and wave, they exited the stage for the last time that night.

"What now?" Shelby asked.

As though awaiting the question, a three-hundred-pound African-American man stopped in front of them and asked, "Ms. Munson, Ms. Powell?" For the briefest second Shelby thought, _the gig is up_, but when they managed to nod, the mountain in front of them smiled. "My name is Brian, but you can call me Romeo. Jared asked me to bring you to a backstage room to wait."

"Thanks." They responded with mutual excitement, before following his lead, back through the behind-the-scenes maze of people and equipment.

The room Romeo left them in was small, with sparse furnishings; a dark-blue upholstered sofa, magazine table, mini-refrigerator, and a mirrored-vanity, which spanned the length of the room's longest wall.

Shelby looked at her friend and blurted, "Kaye, _what _did you do to make such a good impression on Jared? Are you holdin' out on me?"

Kaye smiled humorously. "I wish, but sorry, no juicy details. There _is _a Mrs. Hite after all."

The amount of disappointment that washed over Shelby was childish. Shaking the feeling off, she demanded playfully, "How _dare _he marry anyone but his biggest fan?"

"As much as I would truly like to claim that title, I'm guessing he _did_ marry her. After all, how many girls would date a guy in high school, stay back while he travels the world, learning God knows what with God knows who, and wait for him to come back and propose?"

Shelby was dumbfounded by such a question. "Looking at Jared and his deep brown eyes, very kissable lips, shining smile and dimples, deep enough to drown in, are great reasons for any girl."

Kaye laughed. "Well, he didn't choose just _any_ girl, he chose Erin."

Shelby waved her hand in the air nonchalantly, "Yeah, yeah, let's just see what _we_ think of her; then, we'll decide if Jared can keep her, or trade her in for you."

Before Kaye could remark, the man of whom they spoke walked in with a coolness that denied his worldwide fame. Even without that notoriety, Jared Hite would still be a man to turn heads anytime he entered a room. Opening his arms wide he asked, "How'd you like the show?"

"It was okay," Kaye smirked with forced boredom.

Jared laughed, flashing that brilliant smile, still boyishly ornery, and replied, "We'll just have to try harder next time." Turning his attention to the other friend, he asked, "How about you, Ms. Shelby; did you like the show?"

Shelby smiled sweetly. "I thought it was too short. But then again, I could watch you guys all the time."

"Not just _me_ though?" Jared pouted cutely.

"_You_ have entirely too much information," she responded prudently, and then gave her attention to the opening door.

Shelby Powell would thank God all the remaining days of her life that Jared had also turned in curiosity, therefore missing her expression when Dean Walden slipped into the room with them.

There were a few physical changes since the first time Shelby had ever seen him. His blonde hair was thinner and darker than it had been in his younger years, but not unattractively so. A few lines of time and worry now etched his once youthful face; his hazel eyes held an edge that only life's experiences could create.

"J, you ready? Everybody's out." Dean glanced briefly in Shelby and Kaye's direction, but his eyes immediately flitted back to Jared without comment. _So much for the fantasy_, Shelby thought as insult flooded her senses.

Dean Walden had been a significant part of Shelby's world—or at least the obsessive imaginary one—for nearly twenty years. It didn't matter that until that moment, _she_ had never entered _his _realm of thought. All that mattered was that years before, Shelby had fallen in love with the persona of Dean, and therefore had waited entirely too long for this moment to let it go over so unremarkably.

With her longtime fanaticism bolstering her resolve and instant irritation replacing nervousness, Shelby stepped forward with her hand outstretched. "Hello, I'm Shelby Powell and this is my friend, Kaye Munson. We're Jared's guests tonight."

Jared and Kaye could not decide between expressions of shock or amusement. "_That's _no blubbering idiot." Jared remarked softly, to Kaye.

"Hey, I'm as surprised as you."

Dean turned toward Shelby's unexpected self-introduction. Glancing down at her hand then back up to her face again, he smiled slowly and in one heartbeat, Shelby knew she was precisely where she had wanted to be for the last twenty years—in the center of Dean Walden's attention.

Dean's apology was sincere. "Sorry about that. I've got a way of being in a zone and not noticing what's around me." Shaking her now limp hand lightly, he informed unnecessarily, "I'm Dean Walden."

Forcing her body _not_ to dissolve into a puddle at their feet, Shelby offered, "I'll forgive you _this_ time, even if it's only because I'm too pissed at my ex to miss out on tonight's opportunity."

"Yeah? I got one of those I'm pretty pissed at myself," Dean remarked. "How 'bout we have some fun being pissed at them together?"

Shelby smiled with unmistakable flirtation. "That's _precisely _the opportunity I was hoping for."

"Then let's do this," Dean announced in his energetic stage personality and grabbed Shelby's hand, pulling her through the door with him.

A neon-blue sign illuminated the string of fans waiting, hoping, and praying, for a chance to get past the secured doors of _Ener-G—_the club hosting the after-party. The turnout was great and even after all the events they had been to, Dean and Jared still got a rush from the sight.

Boys from the Blockhad taken more than their fair share of insults over the years, from celebrities and unknowns alike. Their music, talents, personal lives, and attitudes were often brutally dissected by outsiders. Now that they were reemerging on the music scene as grown men, no one who honestly took the time to listen or watch their new work could deny the entertaining skills of these five men. No critic could miss how much they had matured artistically in the last sixteen years either.

The car carrying Dean, Jared, Shelby, and Kaye moved around the corner to a side entrance before stopping. As soon as the nearby fans noticed and began screaming and pointing, Jared looked to the women across from him and asked, "Are you ready for this?"

A brief anxiousness washed over Kaye, but Shelby glowed at the thought. "Hey, Dean's not the only one who likes a little face-to-face."

"Ahh, yeah," Dean ground out then took Shelby's hand and helped her from the car. Jared and Kaye followed and together the group headed inside where the club lived up to its name. The music was loud and thumping. Shelby didn't recognize the tune, but she liked it and managed to pick out some words about Paris and Berlin.

Dean leaned close, "Let's get a drink, then we'll dance." Shelby nodded in reply and it occurred to her that the difficulty she had hearing his words was less about the steady rhythm pounding around them and more to do with the concentration-thwarting fact that Dean Walden's breath was tickling her cheek as he spoke.

Reaching the leather-themed lounge overlooking the dance floor, Dean spotted his friend's seated at a prime table. Absently sliding a chair out for Shelby, Dean leaned toward Jake McKenzie, exchanged a manly high-five/handshake, and greeted, "I'm glad our table's the one with the finest ladies."

The woman sitting between David Ward and an empty chair flashed a brilliant smile and remarked, "Only because _this_ is the best table in the joint."

Not put out, Dean smiled, informing, "This charming beauty is Jared's wife, Erin Hite."

The look Erin gave Shelby bordered on scathing. "So, you're one of the _fans_?"

Kaye and Jared arrived at the table just as Erin made her comment. Sitting, Kaye replied, "If by fans you mean the people that keep you living in the style you've become accustomed to, then yes, that's us."

Erin swung her gaze toward the table's newest occupant and clipped, "My husband's talent does that."

Kaye nodded. "Yeah, but who do you think pays to see your husband's . . . _talent_?"

Erin's eyes narrowed, then without warning, she smiled. Looking toward her husband, she questioned and stated simultaneously, "This is the lawyer?" Jared nodded. Erin studied Kaye a moment longer then announced, "You got brass. I like it when someone can hold their own."

"Then you're gonna _love_ her," Shelby interceded on behalf of her friend.

Dean continued the introductions around the table. Shelby and Kaye were pleased to learn that, for the most part, the assumptions they had made about each Boys from the Blockmember's personality, were right on.

Jake McKenzie was warm and sincere and openly adored his wife. Brennan McKenzie—with her thick, mid-back-length blonde hair, green eyes, lovely face and warm smile—was perfectly matched to her handsome husband.

Jared's older brother, Josh Hite, was quiet and polite. He shared the model-like handsomeness of his sibling, but in no way flaunted it. Even with his close friends, Josh seemed mildly uncomfortable being the center of attention.

Somewhere between Josh's shy smile and Jared and Dean's outgoingness was David Ward. This chiseled man was quick to smile and earnest in doing so. He also gave the impression of studiousness, seeming to contemplate his every word and its projected result before speaking.

Not long after the introductions, Shelby was pulled from the easy conversation around the table when Dean suggested, "Let's dance." He didn't really give her an option and in mild amazement, Shelby headed to the dance floor with the man of her fantasies. Nodding to the DJ, Dean took hold of Shelby's arm, spun her in a half-circle and pulled the entire length of her back flush with his front just as the first beats of the song spilled through the club.

Appropriately, it was one from Boys from the Block's new album and perfectly fit the way Dean began to move their bodies together. Shelby was happy to let him take the lead, primarily because she had never considered herself much of a dancer. Secondly, Dean Walden wouldn't have it any other way and thirdly, with his body pressed tightly against hers, Shelby had to focus on not falling down more than how she was moving to the beat.

Dance-lights flashed around them and Shelby's insecurities flared when she noted the number of people watching them.

Dean whispered against her ear, "Relax; have some fun with me." Closing her eyes, Shelby obeyed and let go.

She came to life, moving with Dean in ways she had only imagined before, and right now, the reality was even better than the dream. Every one of her instincts was attuned to him, his hips, and thighs rubbing against hers, his hands occasionally brushing against her sides, the feel of his fingers entwining with hers.

Too soon, the song ended and they headed back to the table. Slowing their pace, Dean pulled Shelby back toward him; "When tonight is over, I want to see you again, something more private."

Shelby could only pray that she didn't look as dumbfounded as she felt while managing to say, "Sure," with the little breath her body still possessed.

Dean indicated he heard her with a nod, flashed a smile from Shelby's dreams, and then ushered her back to their waiting friends.

The first thing Shelby did when she opened her eyes the next morning was look around to see if she was really in the suite Jared Hite had graciously rented for her and Kaye, or she was merely waking from a wonderful dream.

It wasn't a dream.

The second thing she did was reach for her cell phone. Pushing the button to light up the screen, she switched to her contacts, scrolled down, and smiled. There it was, right where he had programmed it himself, Dean Walden's cell phone number, and personal e-mail address. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it out on a huge smile.

When the phone in her hand came to life with a vibration and ring tone—which she made a mental note to change to a Boys from the Blocksong—Shelby answered, "Hello?"

"Mommy, are you coming home soon?" There was just the slightest quiver in Summer's little voice.

Shelby forced calm over the emotions the seven-year-olds question evoked. "Tomorrow evening, baby. Are you having fun with Daddy?"

"Yeah, but I miss you. Is it okay to have fun with Daddy even though you're not here?" Summer's tender voice filled with worry.

Shelby wanted to hurt Chad. Despite the dream she was living, she would give every moment of it up to save Summer from this sad confusion. "Summer, Mommy and Daddy always want you to have fun no matter which one of us you're with. We both love you very much, so don't you worry about hurting either of us by having fun with the other."

There was a soft tap on the door and Shelby looked up as Kaye walked in and plopped down on the edge of the bed. Summer drew her attention back. "Mommy, are you having fun without _me_?"

What a loaded question. "Do you _want_ Mommy to have fun?"

"I guess."

"Then yes, I'm having a great time. But you know what?"

"What?" The curiosity in Summer's little-girl voice held the expectation of the greatest secret in the world, and in some ways, that's exactly what Shelby offered her child. "Mommy misses you even when I'm having fun. I love you that much."

"How big, Mommy?"

Shelby smiled. "Bigger than the airplane that will bring me home tomorrow."

"Bigger than the sky it will fly in?"

"Way bigger than that," Shelby assured.

"Bigger than the airport?"

Shelby laughed. "Way, way bigger than that, 'cause I love you bigger than all those things put together." Shelby smiled; she enjoyed this game as much as Summer seemed to.

"Good. I love you too, Mommy." Summer disconnected the call just as a beep heralded another one coming in; Shelby clicked over, "Hello?"

"Hey, Shelby? This is Dean."

Shelby smiled and did her best to control the butterflies in her stomach. "Dean who?"

"Dean _Walden_." His reply was full of surprise.

Shelby's laugh was bubbly. "I know; I just wanted to hear you say it."

"You almost had me going for a second," Dean admitted with a chuckle.

Shelby allowed _that_ mental picture to settle over her briefly before stating, "I bet that doesn't happen often."

"Usually people that don't really know me hang up or don't believe that I'm who I say I am."

"Well, I just happen to have the talent of picking your voice out of a crowd," Shelby informed with self-pride.

Dean laughed. "I really like the way you don't hold back."

"I'm glad because it's kinda like a disease and can't be helped." Looking toward Kaye at the end of her bed, Shelby rounded her eyes and pointed at the phone in a silent scream.

"Are you busy today?"

"_Why_?"

Dean chuckled, "You don't need to sound so suspicious. I just thought maybe we could get together later, for dinner."

Shelby felt the phone slipping, but her numbed reflexes stopped her from reacting in time and it dropped on the bed and it bounced to the floor before she quickly leaned over the side to grab it. Her question sounded breathless, "Dean, are you still there?"

The smile was clear in his voice. "I'm here, are you okay?"

"I can honestly say I don't think I've ever been better."

"Good. Does Kaye want to go too?"

"Yes," Shelby answered without bothering to check with her friend.

"There's one more thing," Dean informed tentatively. "Since I haven't been able to get back here often or for long lately, my mom is probably going to be along."

"I don't know, honey, I think it may be a little early for that."

Using a voice Shelby had heard several times on his recent album, Dean stated, "I like to move fast."

And, just like every other time she'd ever heard that tone, Shelby was infused with quick heat. Seeking stability, she closed her eyes. That brought an instant vision that made concentration even more difficult, so she opened her eyes again, and stated, "I can't possibly think of an appropriate response to that, so I'll just agree to see you at six."

"Sounds good, later."

The call ended and Shelby looked up at Kaye in amazement. "That was the phone call of a lifetime."

Kaye smiled, "Let me guess."

"He wants us to have dinner with him and his mother tonight."

"Are you going to be able to live through that?" Kaye asked with complete seriousness.

Shelby's smile was excited. "If not, I'll die happy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Track **THR**EE**

Shelby and Kaye had fun sightseeing—history for Shelby and pop-culture for Kaye—Boston had it all. Later in the evening, Shelby and Kaye joined Dean and his mother for dinner at America's oldest restaurant. An experience that could have been heavy with intimidation did indeed begin somewhat strained. By the end of the evening, the group was engaging in comfortable conversation, however.

To some degree, Shelby felt that she had won the first level of approval from Anna Walden. Even if she hadn't, Shelby would have understood. From one mother to another, it was easy be sympathetic to the woman's feelings. All good parents had some reservations about anyone becoming romantically involved with their children. When that child was a celebrity, surely the concerns multiplied as she wondered, were women after fame connections, money, or heart? Only one of those choices was acceptable from a mother's point of view.

After the meal, Dean hailed a cab for Shelby and Kaye. With a clear promise that he would be in touch with Shelby soon, he left with his mother, to escort her home. Obviously, Shelby hoped for a more in-depth farewell, but considering the circumstances, was thrilled to be involved in the scenario as much as she had been.

Home again in Maryland, life moved on and the memories of Boston dimmed—at least somewhat.

Shelby delved into single-motherhood and treated herself to some private hip-hop dance lessons. The next time she danced with Dean, Shelby planned to be better prepared.

Dean had called once since her return home. With the tour underway again, spare time was precious and hard to be found, so the conversation had been short. If nothing else, it was fuel for Shelby's already ample daydreams and, as an added plus, housework tended to allow that luxury to run rampant.

And so it was, that, as Shelby cleaned her family room, it took two shrill rings of the telephone to completely cut through the buzz of the vacuum cleaner and fog of her fantasies.

Clicking both off with a light sigh of disappointment, Shelby walked across the kitchen to answer the call.

"You busy?" Kaye inquired in greeting.

"It's Saturday morning and Summer's with Chad."

"Cleaning your already clean house?" Kaye correctly assumed.

Shelby's response was matter-of-fact; "_Clean_ is in the eye of the beholder."

Choosing to ignore that statement, Kaye asked, "When's Summer getting home?"

"Not until Monday evening. Chad wanted to take advantage of the long weekend, so he took her to visit his parents in Virginia. I think I'm starting to adjust to her being away. I miss her like crazy, but some _me_ time is nice."

"Yeah, well, just don't O.D. on it like I have." The laughter Kaye wanted to convey wasn't as strong as she would have liked.

With sympathetic advice, Shelby reminded, "It'll happen, Kaye. Don't rush it. Marriage and family looks a lot different outside of the soccer-mom community than it does inside."

"I'll keep that in mind, but that's not why I called."

"What's up?" Shelby turned to look out the window over the sink, noticed a smear of cleanser on the stainless steel spigot, and picked up a dishcloth to wipe it away.

"I just got a very interesting phone call from a certain musically inclined client of mine."

Shelby dropped the cloth and demanded in breathless anticipation, "What did he say?"

"They have a lay-over of sorts in D.C. tonight. They're show is tomorrow evening and suddenly Dean has gotten a hankerin' for a home cooked meal." Kaye slid a short laugh in. "Go figure."

"What I figure is that _hankerin' _is _your _word, not his." Shelby patted her messed up hair, looked down at her bleach stained house cleaning clothes, and questioned with near-certainty; "They're with you already aren't they?"

Kaye was stunned. "What are you, psychic?"

"No, I've just been your friend for what I'm starting to think is way too long. Sophie Kaye Munson, promise me you aren't on the way over or sitting outside my house right now and so help me God if you open that front door with your key—"

Kaye laughed. "Calm down. I'm not that nasty. But they _are_ sitting on my couch right now eating my sacred bowl of candy and looking like a bunch of teenagers that don't have anything better to do in bum fu—" Out of the present conversation, Kaye scolded, "Hey, I don't care _how_ hot you are Jake McKenzie, you eat the last mini Kit-Kat and it's on." Shelby listened to a round of laughter before Kaye continued calmly, "When can you be ready and what do you want to do?"

Translation—how long can we keep them here and what are you going to cook for supper?

Shelby's mind whirled. No take-out. Ask. "What does Dean," _no_ that wouldn't be right; "What do _they_ like?"

Kaye laughed at her friend's fluster, repeated the question, held out the phone and Shelby heard a combined answer of: "Chi-Sush-Me-Spic."

"Thanks, that was a lot of help." Shaking her head, Shelby smiled and bit her lip to keep from rolling into a round of laughter. It was an amazing feeling to accept, and be accepted, by this group with sincere friendship. Shelby loved that the guys felt comfortable, _safe _even, when they were with her and Kaye. Together they could play and tease with no worry of threatened marriage vows or the local newspaper being alerted to their presence.

Over her _Lifetime Movie _moment, Shelby notified, "I want some _real _help Kaye."

"You don't want _me_ to cook?" Kaye sounded horrified.

"No, but you can go to the store and bring me what I need." Kaye didn't respond and a moment later, Shelby realized she was distracted by something happening around her.

"Can I help?"

Shelby's stomach muscles actually quivered at the sound of Dean's voice. Gathering her composure, she asked, "You gonna cook, clean, or just stand in the way lookin' good?"

"Damn, what happened to the blubbering-idiot?"

Shelby withheld a groan of embarrassment and made a mental note to kill Jared or Kaye, possibly both. "First of all, you're on my turf now. Second, I've spent some time with you, coming to realize that you're at least _partially_ human and not just a figment of my imagination. Thirdly, when I'm cooking for my friend's I mean business."

"Sounds like it," Dean responded humorously. "Anything else?"

Shelby tried to sound angry, but was far too thrilled with the situation to fully convey that emotion. "Yeah, let Jared know I'll be lacing his plate with something to keep his big mouth from spouting off in the future. In fact he'll be lucky if he can hit those girly-high notes during the show tomorrow night."

Dean—the super-cool idol—actually dropped the phone because he was laughing so hard.

"Shelby, _what_ did you say to him?" Kaye asked after retrieving the phone from the floor. "He's laughing so hard he can barely stand up."

Shelby smiled, "I'm sure he'll pass it along when he can." Looking around her, she stepped into hostess mode. "Get a pen and paper, let's make a list."

An hour later, Shelby's doorbell rang and before she reached for the knob, she prepared herself. Kaye would have just walked in, so it was a pretty fair guess as to who was bringing the groceries.

"Special delivery, ma'am." Dean held the three bags out toward her.

"Thanks, you can bring those in and leave them on the table; I'll just get your tip."

Stepping into the house, Dean formed a quick mental-picture of the nice tip he would prefer. This woman was as unexpected as it got for him. She was ordinary, didn't seem to crave the professional spotlight, and could put him and his friend's in their place if the need arose. Add to that the fact that this five-five mother-of-one didn't have legs as long as she was tall, dark hair and an exotic look; Dean was guessing that he was as amazed by this simple attraction as she was.

He recalled having read somewhere that a person's taste buds change every seven years; maybe his almost-forty-year-old brain was simply starting to readjust too. Maybe he just needed something different. After all, picture perfect hadn't lasted happily-ever-after for him before.

Closing the front door and following behind Dean, Shelby soaked in the view; jeans with a nice fit, not too baggy, and falling off him. The dark denim was comfortable and allowed a teasing hint to how tight the muscles beneath were kept by hours of dancing and working out in a gym. His back was the same beneath the faded-green tee shirt and when he set the packages down and turned back toward her, Shelby noted another change.

Pulling boxed lasagna and jars of sauce from the bags she commented. "I like the goatee."

Self-consciously, Dean reached up to rub over his lower face. "Yeah, I always like having it but my last film shoot called for a clean shave. I've had enough time to grow it back though."

Watching him reach into the bag containing salad goods, Shelby opinionated, "That was a good movie. You play a really convincing cop."

"Thanks." He smiled sincerely at the simple compliment. "Sometimes I feel type-cast though."

Shelby shrugged; "I guess Hollywood just knows what you're good at." Folding the empty, brown-paper bag and storing it under the sink, Shelby stated curiously, "You must have had a great time working with your favorite actor."

Dean offered a sidelong glance, indicating he'd caught her display of knowledge. "It _was_ amazing. I learned a lot, but it was also kind of surreal to see him _not _as larger-than-life on the big screen."

Shelby grinned, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Dean smiled and asked, "Have you seen any of my other work?"

Shelby wanted to laugh aloud; _Had she seen his other work . . . ha!_

With an indirect glance, she informed, "I didn't care too much for that scary old woman that ate your tongue off with all the creepy dolls around."

Dean assumed with a sappy voice, "Aww, were you scared?"

"Not a bit," Shelby declared. "In fact, I'll go into the closet and take her on any day."

Dean laughed at the convincing attitude Shelby gave off. "That's funny, 'cause I can't stand having my closet doors open at night now."

"Well, little Miss Mary, Mary Quite Contrary doesn't want to mess with me." After a brief pause in her fake tirade, Shelby added, "But that doesn't even compare to how I'd like to thrash that other woman."

"What woman?" Dean asked, popping a crouton in his mouth and watching her while he waited for the answer to come.

"The one that had you rolling around in bed with her, you know on that T.V. show. I couldn't watch, had to cover my eyes."

A smile of unadulterated pride lit Dean's features and with a laugh, he bumped her lightly with his elbow. "Shelby, it's just acting."

"Looked _awfully_ real to me." Her jealousy wasn't entirely false. "So did the mafia movie with the Don's daughter and you in the elevator."

Dean laughed without inhibition, "This is fun."

Shelby gave a slight shudder and continued to entertain, "I think the worst thing I've ever seen you do is the part in the movie about the boys in a cult." She shuddered again, "Very disturbing."

"Again, _acting,_" Dean reminded.

"Terrifying," Shelby corrected.

With a soft laugh, he probed, "You got anything else crammed into your brain's Dean Walden storage space?"

Shelby tried to sound indignant, "I don't have a Dean Walden . . . " The lie trailed off and with a sheepish grin, she offered, "Actually, that _does _remind me of another one."

"You might know my work better than _I_ do," Dean commented with wry amusement.

Shelby ignored that remark for one of her own, "I don't think Kaye can be convinced that it was really you playing that mentally handicapped boy/alien."

Grinning, Dean prodded, "Why not?"

Shelby stopped the movement of her hands and looked at him sincerely, "Because you were amazing. I've seen actors in huge rolls win Academy Awards, but the performance you pulled off in that one was deserving of more than mere words."

Dean pondered the best reply for such a compliment, settling for simple, "Thank you."

"Did you read the book first?" Shelby asked, moving to the other side of the kitchen.

"Yeah, I love to read anyway, so it just makes sense to read the original work of a role I'm going to play. Did you read it?"

Shelby looked over her shoulder at Dean and scrunched up her nose with disgust. "I have the utmost respect for that man, but after reading the one about the clown, I've never been able to read another one of his books again." Dean laughed at her explanation for boycotting one of the world's most famous authors.

"But you'll watch the movies _based_ on his books?" Dean's amusement was evident.

Shelby nodded, "I can cover my eyes on the scary parts that way; not so easy to do when you're reading a book." Taking two stainless steel pans from the cabinet beneath the counter, she turned toward him and smiled, "Just for the record, I'm a history nut and therefore could look at you dressed like Billy the Kid every day and not get tired of it."

"That one was a lot of fun," Dean admitted.

"I could tell. My favorite part was that self-satisfied grin you gave through the broken window, after you shot a man."

When Dean offered her a very similar expression, Shelby had to redirect her mind. Holding one of the pans toward him, she requested, "Fill this with water and set the stove to medium, please."

Dean took the pan from her, their fingers brushed and, silly as it seemed, they both noticed the contact.

Feeling the rise of the blubbering idiot, Shelby promptly pulled out a colander, and began tackling the salad, lettuce first. She rinsed the light green leaves and then began tearing them apart at the sink. "Do you cook a lot? When you're home I mean."

"Yeah, I like to. My brother is a chef, did you know that?" Dean moved to lean against the sink beside her and began wiping the tomatoes clean with a wet paper towel.

"Did I remember it? No. But I do think somewhere along the line I may have heard about it." Shaking excess water off the lettuce, Shelby pulled down a large blue pottery bowl and placed the salad-greens inside.

"He's really good. You ever get to Massachusetts you should drop by his restaurant."

Shelby laughed lightly, "I'll keep that in mind, because, you know, I travel to New England so often."

"Maybe now that you have connections there, you will."

Shelby let that thought slide tantalizingly through her mind. They continued to work in companionable silence for a few moments more before Shelby said, "I didn't think to ask so I hope you all like lasagna."

"It's not like we gave you much time." Dean reminded her judiciously. "And anything is better than catered food. Not that we don't appreciate all the work people put into feeding us on the road, but there's only so much you can do with a chicken and nothing else seems to cook as well."

"I figured as much. David or you said something like that on an old behind-the-scenes video." Dean laughed and Shelby blushed. "Okay, so I'm a goofball for remembering something you probably just filled airtime with, but either way, you're getting homemade lasagna and learning to be careful what you say, because someone is always listening."

"Believe it or not, I figured that one out a while ago. But thanks for the reminder."

Kaye arrived with Josh, Jared, David, Jake, and Brennan about fifteen minutes before the meal was ready. The house was filled with the tempting aroma of Italian food and the addition of laughter and conversation was a better compliment than even the red wine Josh handed Shelby upon his entry. "I hope you guys are hungry, she made a ton." Dean welcomed the group, smiling toward Shelby as he spoke.

"She always does. It's something she got from her mother," Kaye inserted, while pulling some glasses from the cupboard. Josh stepped forward to open the wine and help Kaye in serving the beverage.

"Mom always said there's nothing better than good food and good conversation," Shelby informed like a smiling greeting card.

"Except maybe good friends," Brennan added, making Shelby feel less conspicuous.

"Or a beautiful woman," Jake said, pecking his wife's lips sweetly and pulling her close. The way he touched her seemed second nature, like she was an extension of him rather than another person.

Walking toward the stereo-system in the adjoining family room, David added his opinion, "Don't forget good music." Setting aside his glass, he switched the radio on. A powerful symphony was set free. The amazingly ranged male voice, singing praise to God, was a perfect match to the music. The vocalist's current phrase ended with the phrase, " ._ . . of the beginning._"

Kneeling down, David glanced back over his shoulder toward Shelby. "Christian Rock? I never would have seen that coming." Letting the wonderful vocals flow for a moment, David added, "Great voice, I like it, who is he?"

Before Shelby could answer, Kaye informed with a laugh, "He's the _good_ boy Shelby dreams about."

Taking Shelby off-guard, Dean leaned in behind her and whispered, "Who's the _bad_ boy?" Without pause, he moved casually toward David and didn't bother to look back—there was no need.

"_That _could always change," Shelby spouted with spunk.

Dean laughed, all of his attractive and aggravating arrogance displaying precisely how empty he knew that threat to be. "What CD's does she have?"

Flipping open the CD changer, David razzed, "First in little-miss-true-fan's collection is . . ." he slid out the disk, smiled and twirled the blue circle on the tip of his finger. It was their latest release, _Around the Block_. "The deluxe edition," he informed with forced awe.

"That doesn't prove anything," Dean informed studiously. "Somebody claiming to be a fan of ours _should _have our latest release." Pulling out the next CD, Dean whistled softly. "But _this_ I got to give you props for." It was their first CD; on the cover, they were hanging off of a street lamp and Jake looked like he was only nine years old.

"You can keep looking or I can tell you what else you'll find," Shelby reported smugly.

"Shoot," David encouraged.

"_Each_ of your CD's."

"Even the Christmas one?" Josh asked with a groan.

"That one is packed away with Bing Crosby."

"At least we're in good company," Jake responded.

"_You_, sir, should like some of the other's in my collection, too," Shelby informed Jake.

"Such as?"

"_Phantom of the Opera_, the original London cast recording of course." Jake and Brennan nodded in agreement and Shelby continued, "_Les Miz_, _Miss Saigon_—"

"Anything _less_ depressing?" Josh inquired.

Holding up soundtracks one, two and three of the latest G-rated craze, David raised a dark brow, "_Really_?"

"Hey hypocrite, I _do_ have a seven year old daughter, plus that Zac isn't anything to shake a stick at." With a smile she added, "Which reminds me, there's also some of your current generation counterparts."

"The brothers?" Receiving Shelby's consenting nod, Jake continued, "They can't be considered our counterparts. First, they're _all _brothers; family always adds a harmony quality that can't be faked. Plus, there are only three of them." With certain finality he stated, "It's like comparing apples to oranges."

"I'm glad you're an entertainer and not my grocer if that's what you think," Shelby replied dismissively.

Jake laughed. "What else you got?"

"At _least_ seven different country artists."

"Not counting the one's she sings with in her car," Kaye informed with glee.

"You sing?" Dean's interest was on full alert.

Shelby glared at Kaye and her big mouth, "I can hold my own."

Kaye sniffed, started to say something, but reconsidered, allowing Dean to suggest, "Maybe you'll let us listen sometime."

"Not likely," Shelby assured him.

With his very tempting smile he suggested further, "Maybe you'll let _me_ listen sometime."

"Then you better do more than just stand there and smile," Shelby prompted.

The group roared and amidst the laughs Jake stated, "Well at least you have good taste in music."

"Speaking of taste . . ." Kaye suggested with a nod toward the kitchen. Shelby took the cue and together the group began the buffet style meal the likes of which they were unaccustomed to on the road.

With everyone comfortably seated and enjoying the food, Jared requested, "So, tell us your craziest _Block Boy _adventure."

Taking a sip of her wine and setting it back to the table, Shelby offered, "There's nothing too bold. We were minors after all."

"So were _we_," Dean reminded.

"Not all of us," Josh tossed in smartly. "But then someone had to be the adult."

Jake rolled his eyes, "Yeah, 'cause our manager and tour-mom couldn't handle it like you could." Everyone chuckled at Jake's teasing before he asked, "How many concerts of ours have you been to?"

Shelby's reply was easy. "Counting August? Eight."

"Ten." Kaye followed immediately.

Brennan's response was an amazed, "Wow."

Kaye pointed loosely in Brennan's direction while asking the guys, "Is she serious?"

Jake shrugged, "Brennan tries not to focus too much on the extent our fans will go to just to be near us."

"I guess that _can_ be a little scary." Shelby agreed.

"That depends on which one of us you ask," David informed. "I can deal with it, just let it slide; Jake's pretty much the same. Dean loves it, but even he needs a little break once and a while; too much of a good thing is still _too_ much."

"Here, here," Jared agreed with glass raised.

"Then there's me," Josh inserted. "I'd just as soon be at the office selling properties."

"Don't get me wrong," Kaye began, "but if that's how you feel, why _are_ you touring again?"

Josh smiled, "Because I love my little brother and the guys managed to convince me that the group wouldn't be the same without me."

Shelby was absently swirling her fork through the remaining lasagna on her plate when she remarked softly, "You're the special sauce."

All eyes shifted in her direction, but it was David, who teased with sincere surprise, "You're just a little fount of trivia aren't you?"

Shelby blushed and with an embarrassed smile offered, "It's a weakness of mine. It has been since high school."

"Funny, I don't notice you quoting _all_ of us," Jared stated with forced consideration.

In deep concentration, Shelby crinkled her brow. "I'm sorry, _what's_ your name again?"

Kaye rolled her eyes. "I always have to remind her that your group is _not _Dean Walden and the Pips." Everyone enjoyed that comment, maybe Shelby a bit less than the rest.

David leaned back in his chair, stretched out his legs, and asked, "So which was your favorite show?"

In fan-mode, the woman agreed simultaneously: "Hershey."

"Pennsylvania?" Josh guessed.

Kaye nodded. "Yeah, it's only about an hour and a half from here. Shelby and I knew you guys were going to be doing the _Tough Enough_ tour there and naturally we _had _to go."

Shelby picked up the story. "You can imagine the amount of money our parents gave your enterprise and so we waited until the day of the show to resort to desperate begging. My parents said I could go if Kaye's parent's agreed. Kaye's mom said that the only way we could go was if we had tickets already."

Kaye chimed in again. "We didn't, but Shelby _did _have a typewriter. So we took one of the tickets from another show and made replicas of them." Shelby cringed at the memory and Kaye added, "We worked for three long hours on those horrible looking fakes."

"This made it even funnier when we showed her mom the tickets and she just called Kaye's dad upstairs and asked if he would take us." Shelby shook her head with awe-filled amazement, "That man is a saint. God bless him, he drove us ninety miles, gave us money to buy _real_ tickets and sat in his truck with a newspaper and a thermos of coffee."

"What a great story," Brennan complimented.

"Oh, we're not done," Kaye assured. "The seats we got were lower level on the side. They were the _best_ we ever had, until Boston, of course. You guys would run off side-stage for a drink or to wipe your faces with a towel and we were right there, the only row of seating you could see from that angle. As soon as you realized it, you began to play. David stuck out his tongue and waved his arms to get us really interacting. Josh amazed us by jumping around and falling on the ground so that we'd laugh and Dean teased, acting like he was going to throw his towel out." Looking to Dean, Kaye added, "You never did though and let me tell you how that traumatized Shelby."

"Please do," Dean prompted, leaning forward with his chin in his hands for effect.

"Maybe another time," Shelby avoided firmly.

Joining the post-dinner game, Kaye generously offered, "Shelby, you _have _to tell them about your term paper."

Blood rushed to Shelby's cheeks. "It _wasn't _my term paper. It was just a graded homework assignment." Looking at the interested faces around her, Shelby added, "And I'm not sure I'm ready to reveal precisely how obsessed I, _we_, were."

Jake spoke as though cuing them into a huge secret. "Um, you pretended to have tickets so that you could get to our concert. It's safe to say we're beyond wondering."

Everyone laughed forcing Shelby to grumble, "Fine, I had to continue the Canterbury Tales with an additional character."

Josh grinned, "Soooo, which _character _did _you _chose?"

Kaye smiled brightly. "Guess."


	4. Chapter 4

**Track **F_O_U**R**

All eyes subconsciously, slid in Dean's direction and with a slow smile, he prompted, "Let's hear it."

"Believe it or not, I _don't_ have it memorized," Shelby explained disdainfully.

Dean winked. "That _is _hard to believe."

Shelby's face turned almost purple with embarrassment. Easily, Kaye intervened, "Whether you do or not, one thing is for sure."

"What?"

"You _do _know exactly where it is, so go get it."

Shelby glared at her longtime friend the entire way out of the room and was gone and back in less than two minutes.

With the amazed and amused expressions that greeted her quick return, Shelby informed, "Don't think that I have it lying by my bed. I just have a place for everything."

"And everything in its place." Josh completed for her.

Shelby nodded, "Exactly." While unfolding the piece of lined notebook paper, she requested, "Now remember I was _only_ a senior."

"Yeah, yeah, just read it," Jared pressured.

Clearing her throat, Shelby obliged:

_Next with us on our trip was a singer in a group; his style and cute looks could knock you for a loop!_

_He traveled on a tour bus decorated blue, with pictures of Native Americans riding through the dew._

_His sandy-blonde hair usually parted to the side, underneath a baseball cap often seemed to hide._

"Not in a while," David tauntingly interrupted, to which Dean responded with an unmistakable bit of sign language before Shelby continued:

_Wearing ripped blue jeans, a black jacket, and tee shirt, it seemed to me his one, and only goal was to flirt._

_With simply a wink of his eye and a flash of his smile;_

"You knew in a moment he must be Saint Nick?" Brennan supplied inquisitively.

With narrowed eyes and a pointing finger, Shelby admonished, "Watch it sister." Brennan stifled a laugh and listened to the remainder of Shelby's work.

_His many fans would run to him, mile after mile!_

_A pair of black Adidas had his outfit complete; his considerate and outgoing attitude made him a treat. _

_Around his family and friends, he was always "Tough Enough," because his love for them was strong and had "The Right Touch"!_

_Prejudice people and drugs were issues against which he would fight; he believed everyone deserved a fair chance, whether their skin was black or white._

_The group he sings with has millions of different fans, from a variety of states, not to mention many lands._

_For entertainment on the bus, along with him he brought many different books to keep his mind deep in thought._

_Not forgetting a large supply of game cartridges for Nintendo, and a videotape of his group in concert, so we too could see the show!_

_His words were always filled with kindness and a thrilling kind of joy. He wouldn't hurt anyone; he knew emotions weren't a toy!_

_His imagination and attitude had us all quite intrigued; every one of us awaiting his story that we might heed!_

Shelby looked up slowly—_very_ slowly. All eyes were on her and each expression ranged from humor to amazement.

"That may be the _funniest_ thing I've ever heard," Jared managed before bursting into laughter.

"You're just jealous because it wasn't about _you_," Dean stated. Then, with just the slightest bit of patronizing, added, "I thought it was very nice, Shelby."

Standing, Kaye crossed her arms in front of her chest, shifted her hip to one side, and said with perfect attitude, "Word!"

The laughter rolled and Shelby instigated, "Your turn, Kaye; tell them about the bracelets."

Kaye groaned. "I'd rather not."

"Fair is fair," Brennan pressured.

"How about you?" Kaye began. "I'm sure you have some stories too."

Brennan shook her head. "No, I wasn't that into them."

Kaye was stunned. "I'm sorry, I don't comprehend."

Brennan laughed at Kaye's dramatics. "Seriously; I was concentrating on ballet then, not what was on the Top 40."

"Now sweetie, that's not _entirely_ true, is it?" Dean questioned in a teasing tone. Brennan balled up a napkin and tossed it across the table toward him, but missed her mark by several inches. Dean laughed at her failed attempt before explaining, "It would seem the fair Mrs. McKenzie had a _thing_ for my younger brother, and the group, he got his start in."

Holding her hand up in the air as though preparing to testify, Kaye offered, "Hey, no foul there. I've never seen a man do better justice to a pair of underwear."

With an artificial sigh, Dean boasted, "It's a family trait."

Imagining _that _picture turned Shelby's face priceless. To divert an onslaught of ridicule, she quickly insisted, "Come on, Kaye, tell the story."

Kaye huffed something unintelligible under her breath, reminding Shelby of Summer's seven-year-old attitude. After a dramatic roll of her hazel eyes, she began the requested story. "After going to our second concert, we came up with the idea to buy you each bracelets with your nicknames engraved."

David couldn't resist and interrupted with his best show-me-what-you-got smile. "Do you remember our nicknames _now_?"

Kaye gave a haughty expression before spouting off, "The Dean, J-Man, D, Jakey-Jake, and Spiff." Flippantly she declared, "Never doubt a true fan."

David held his hands out in surrender. "I'll remember that."

Kaye continued her story then. "The funniest part was, a few weeks later we saw a new poster in which you guys all had bracelets on. We were _convinced_ that they were the one's we had given you."

"They were," Dean said sincerely.

The women looked at each other, and then at the people around the table before Kaye suggested, "Any body ever tell you that you _suck_ as an actor, Dean Walden?"

The rest of the guys busted out laughing while, with a heart-stopping grin, Dean conceded, "Maybe a time or two." Then he winked, "But I think we all know how I feel about critics."

Josh intervened more seriously, "It _would_ be nice if we could somehow catalog all our fan-gifts. Everyone puts a lot of thought into them."

"Mr. Organized." Kaye goaded. Then, swiveling her attention toward her best friend, informed, "Shelby, _he _should have been your favorite Block Boy."

With mock insult and shock, Josh demanded, "You mean I'm _not_?"

Everyone laughed, but Kaye pointed straight at Dean while still looking Josh's way, to direct, "Now _that's _acting."

"Thanks for the tip," Dean muttered mockingly, before leaning in to ask, "So who _were_ you're favorites?"

"I loved _all_ of you," Kaye chickened out with diplomacy.

Shelby narrowed her eyes at her friend and they both knew it was payback time. "_You_ are _so_ full of it."

"What?" Kaye countered as sincerely as she could manage.

Using her pointer finger, Shelby indicated each of the guys seated around the table. "Kaye's favorite teen Block Boy. Let's see . . . my mother told me to pick . . .." Shelby continued, until her finger stopped its search on David.

Kaye covered her face and squealed like a teenager.

With a little blush and grin, David informed, "I'm flattered and surprised. I'd have pegged you for Dean or Jared."

"I had my Jared moments, still do in fact." She winked at Jared, bringing a fresh round of laughter. "I always liked your quiet manner though. Nothing seemed to get you ruffled and you were always okay about letting Dean shove you out of the direct spotlight."

"Hey," Dean began in self-defense; "it was bad enough sharing it with two other big-heads. I couldn't let any more space be taken up."

"I rest my case," Kaye declared in exact courtroom dialect. "Furthermore, Mr. Don't-get-in-my-way Dean Walden was off limits. Pining away for him would have been like taking my life into my own hands." Glancing at her longtime friend, Kaye smirked before flapping, "Dean was Shelby's, _no_ exceptions."

"Aww," the guys teased in unison.

"You could have at least _harmonized _that for me," Shelby retorted to their good-humor.

"Yeah, because she loves music, especially good harmony. You should hear her 'Dean Play list,'" Kaye supplied, making air quotes with her fingers.

Shelby's mouth hung open. "For crying out loud, Kaye, who needs enemies with a friend like you?"

Kaye shrugged. "Sorry, I'm just having fun."

"Someday, you'll pay _dearly_ for _this _fun," Shelby assured her, not entirely kidding.

"Well, you _have_ to tell us now," Brennan urged.

"Oh, _no_, I _don't_," Shelby hedged stubbornly.

"Come on, Shelby, _I'd_ love to know," Dean joined the peer-pressure with a smile.

Despite her brain sounding off an alarm that warned, _Caution – Butt of the Joke Status Ahead!_ Dean's charm worked its magic over Shelby, enticing her to reveal this somewhat-intimate detail.

Still hesitant, Shelby looked directly at Dean as she spoke. "You're not getting them all."

"Yet," he challenged openly, and then relented, "I'll settle for five."

"Nice try, but you're only getting _three_." Burying her eyes behind her hand, Shelby uttered, "_Part of Your World_ from Disney's The Little Mermaid, Faith Hill's, _It Will Be Me_ and _On My Own _from Les Miserables."

Without hesitation, Dean implored, "Play them."

Shelby's laughter was shaky. "_Not_ on your life. You want to hear them and laugh; you can do that on _your_ time, _not _mine."

"Fair enough," Dean agreed with a nod. "But then you _have_ to explain why _I'm _your pick."

With a slight breath of relief, Shelby looked toward Dean and somehow managed to block out the others in the room; at least enough to give her answer some serious thought. "I have spent hours, pathetic I know, looking at your pictures and wondering that same thing. The best conclusion I have come to is that it's all about the attitude. I really like that over-confidence you have."

"Thanks?" Dean accepted, with uncertain appreciation.

Flashing his famous woman-killer smile, complete with dimples, Jared assured, "Well, it _couldn't _have been your looks; I'm _far_ hotter."

"Too bad you were _both_ outdone by the baby of the group." Jake inserted with exaggerated certainty.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but _none_ of you guys compared to Kaye's older brother and his friends."

Kaye began laughing so hard that tears immediately filled her eyes, but she managed to ask, "Do you have your copy of the tape here?"

Shelby nodded and walked into the family room, calling back, "I'll turn it up so you can hear it in there. Go ahead and fill them in."

With an unnecessary nod, Kaye began, "It was my sophomore year, so my older brother and his closest friends were around eighteen years old. They had all moved to the ocean for the summer and on my birthday, they recorded their own special version of _A Love Forever_ and sent it home as a gift."

Knowing what it took to hit the songs high notes, Jared cringed while settling in for the off-key entertainment coming from the next room. The listeners didn't make it past the first verse before their hilarity grew louder than the playing song.

The best part was yet to come, however.

As the song ended and Kaye's brother and his friends, still being recorded by the technician, boasted over which parts sounded the best.

"At least they had the timing right," Josh suavely complimented.

"Yeah and that's about it," Kaye added. "Still, I wouldn't give up that tape for a million dollars."

"And that," Brennan began, meeting the gazes of Kaye and Shelby, "is the stuff that really counts. The stuff great memories are made of."

Brennan leaned her head on Jake's shoulder and he kissed the top of her blonde head lightly. "You tired, baby?"

Brennan looked apologetically toward her hostess. "A little, plus we need to get back with Grant." It was touching that even this rock star wife and mom kept her toddler close in thought—another reminder of how the basics of love are the same, no matter a person's privilege.

"Will we see you at the concert tomorrow night?" David asked and Shelby noticed with silent pleasure that he addressed his question toward Kaye.

"There is the small matter of tickets," Kaye responded.

"If you want to come, that can be taken care of." David offered, "I've got connections."

Kaye glanced across the table at Shelby, they shared a brief conversation without words; the way only old friends can do. Shelby shrugged and responded, "Summer's with Chad until Monday." Which translated to Kaye as: _Are you kidding me? Yes, Yes, Yes!_

"Then it's set. How about you come early and you can watch from the wings?" Josh suggested.

Kaye and Shelby looked at each other again, shrugged nonchalantly and, somehow Kaye managed without screaming, "Well, if you _insist_."

Standing, Jared finalized, "We do." Moving around the table, he kissed each of the women on the cheek. "Thanks for all this."

Shelby waved her hand in dismissal. "You are very welcome."

Together the group walked to the front door and Kaye stepped out too. "I'm gonna lead them back to the interstate. Do you want me to come back and help clean up?"

Turning to hear her friends answer, Kaye noticed that Dean was still inside the house, standing a few feet back. She studied Dean a moment longer, then looked at Shelby and demanded "Call me in the morning."

"First thing," Shelby agreed, before waving to the departing group. Closing and locking the door, she turned to lean lightly against it and gave the appearance of being calm and cool—a major feat for Shelby. Inside, she really wanted to scream like a teenage groupie, _Dean Walden is standing in __my __house, just three feet away!_

As though reading her mind, Dean grinned slow and easy. "You don't mind if I give you a hand with the mess do you?"

Shelby tried to sound blasé. "Nah, I'll take help from wherever I can get it."

"And here I thought you'd be overwhelmed by my generosity."

Shelby's tone remained the same. "Oh, I am, but there's so _much _about you that overwhelms me, _generosity _just gets thrown into the mix."

The lazy, self-assured grin that Shelby thrilled at lit Dean's features. "I like that."

"I _know_ you do," Shelby admitted brazenly.

In the next second, she remembered that this was real, not another fantasy and heat slowly crept up her neck toward her cheeks.

Dean's smile grew; it was shameful the way he affected her. It was sinful the way he _knew _he affected her. Still, he made no comment other than to say, "Let's get this."

For the briefest of moments, Shelby wondered exactly what he was suggesting and therefore had the urge to reach up to the corner of her mouth and make sure she wasn't drooling. Fighting the impulse, she instead responded—like a big nerd—"Okee-Dokee." Dodging the fallout from that statement, she quickly walked through the formal living room, into the adjacent dining room.

As Dean followed and helped Shelby gather the few remaining glasses from the table, the silence became deafening and obvious to both of them. Before the strain turned outright uncomfortable, Dean spoke up; "Twenty questions?"

Shelby glanced in his direction, but continued around the table with four glasses pinched between her fingers. "Sure, but that doesn't seem fair. I already know lots about you."

Dean chuckled and followed her into the kitchen with the remaining glasses. "You only know what I want the public to know."

"You mean like the fascinating facts that you like chocolate milk shakes, your favorite Boys from the Blocksong is _Please Stay Girl _and that your middle name is—"

"Don't go there."

"Edmond."

"And she went anyway," he remarked in an aside manner, to no one in particular. "Okay, I must admit that I'm a little impressed, a little _scared_, but more impressed than anything." Laughing with her, he reminded, "But that's hardly the real me or especially the _mature _me."

"You don't strike me as the type to keep many secrets," Shelby replied, opening the dishwasher and beginning to load the glasses on the top rack.

"Everybody has secrets, Shelby." Dean's voice was quite, but the words held a heavy meaning.

Finished with their task, Dean leaned back against the counter and Shelby moved a few feet away to sit on the end of the couch with her feet curled comfortably under her. "Well, let's make it five questions instead of twenty and since it's safe to say that I might know a bit more about you, I'll let you ask first."

"Okee-Dokee," Dean agreed like a true smart-ass. "New England or Manhattan Clam Chowder?"

Shelby laughed, "That's _really_ your first question? I was expecting something a little more personal."

Dean half smiled, half smirked. "I like to keep you on your toes."

Rather than inform him bluntly that he could keep her wherever he wanted, Shelby responded, "I think this may be a trick question, but I'm guessing my honest one is what you're looking for; New England." With a playful wink, she added, "Where all good things come from."

Dean grinned, then crossed his arms, gave her a serious look, before prying, "Is Summer your only child?"

"Very smooth," Shelby commented on his easy depth change. "Yes, she's my only child and here's a freebie, she is seven-years-old and the most important thing on the planet." Her eyes met his meaningfully, "Bar none."

Dean got it, and replied simply, "That's exactly how it should be."

"How about you? I know you have two boys, but no other details. With a slight grimace, Shelby admitted, "I find it a little too freaky for fans to research celebrities' children."

"It's good to hear that some people still have morals about that sort of thing. Kendra and I have always been careful with the boys anyway." Reaching for his wallet, Dean asked, "Do you want to see a picture?"

It struck Shelby funny that even celebrities liked to show off pictures of their children. "I would love to."

She waited while Dean walked toward her, leaned down, and indicated, "This is Jaxson, I like to call him X, he's eight and Evan is four." In the photo, the boys sat on a hardwood floor, back-to-back. Each wore blue jeans, white sleeveless tee shirts, and no shoes. Their hair was dark brown, though Evan's was a bit lighter than his older brother's. They both had brown eyes and their skin-tone was fair like Dean's.

Glancing up to Dean's noticeably close face, Shelby opinionated, "Evan favors you."

"Yeah, X definitely looks more like Kendra, but he acts just like me."

"Is he a Leo too?" Shelby asked.

Dean didn't miss the fact that she knew this about him and smiled, "Yeah, August fourth."

"I'm August fifteenth, Summer is August seventeenth."

Dean laughed. "No kiddin', Summer and I have the same birthday?"

With a sardonic roll of her blue eyes, Shelby supplied, "The thought _may_ have occurred to me before."

Indicating Summer's picture on the wall, Dean offered, "She's an adorable little girl." Glancing at the likeness of her fair-haired, green-eyed child, Shelby couldn't help but silently agree. Then Dean added, "Like her mother."

Nothing else came to mind, so Shelby graciously accepted the comment. "Thank You."

"Any chance of reconciling with Daddy?"

Shelby kept it simple; "No, he's moved on."

"He's a damn fool."

"I'll second that," Shelby stated sweetly. With more seriousness, she added, "But then again, you don't really know me well enough to say so. I mean, not to be rude, but I will never in all my life, be able to comprehend why a woman who married you would find a reason to leave, but Kendra did."

"I love that everything in this world can be changed by perception." Dean contemplated their words a moment, before choosing his next question and asking, "How long were you married?"

"Eight and a half years." Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, Shelby opened them again and admitted, "Sometimes I forget that it's over."

For a moment, Dean just looked at her, studied her, and wished that he hadn't agreed so quickly to lessen the number of questions. "Here's an easy one. What's your favorite song?"

"That is _not _easy." Shelby gave him a look of blatant disbelief. "I mean, do you want country, pop, show tunes or just Boys from the Block?"

"I see," Dean patronized. "We'll move to another question then; strike that one." Shelby nodded her agreement and Dean asked, "Favorite attribute?"

"Mine or yours?" Shelby flirted.

Dean smiled broadly, "Let's start with yours."

Shelby scrunched up her nose in a very cute way. "I don't like this game." The look he gave her proved he wouldn't let her out of answering, so with a sigh she offered, "My sense of humor."

Dean nodded, "That's a good one, and I agree, but I'm talkin' physical."

Shelby laughed. "My smile."

"That's another good one. Got anymore?"

Shelby turned the charm higher. "I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"Because _that _would defeat the purpose of the game," Dean evaded smoothly.

"Well, that's all I can come up with on my own." Shelby responded sincerely.

Dean tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger so that her blue eyes were locked with his hazel. "You're entirely too hard on yourself."

"You really think so?" She began with a mocking tone. "'Cause I've seen pictures of Kendra, the woman is beautiful." It was one of those comments that Shelby wished she could immediately retract.

It was too late though and Dean's response was perfect, "You're beautiful too."

Shelby couldn't stop the breathy laugh from escaping her lips. "There's no comparison between the two of us."

"_I'm_ not the one who's comparing."

Shelby believed it was quite possible Dean was going to have to find her a paper bag to breathe into, if they were going to continue conversing. With a shaky start, she stated, "Okay, so no comparisons; but I still know from experience that divorce papers don't stop years of feelings. Plus, I'm a fan, I've heard the songs."

Dean's green eyes were serious, _contemplative_, before he answered. "Then listen to this; yes I love Kendra and I always will. She's the mother of my son's, we shared a life together, but when it's over, it's over, and Kendra and I are officially over." Sighing, Dean perched himself on the couch beside Shelby, close enough that their legs were touching. "When I started to toss around the idea of joining the guys for a reunion, Kendra started to pull back and push away from me. She couldn't support my dream, and music was my first love, my original commitment. She gave me a lot of attitude, sleepless nights and finally an ultimatum." Grinning sheepishly, Dean finished, "I've never been one to bend to an ultimatum. I felt trapped, she wanted out and I wanted freedom."

"Sleepless nights?" Shelby whispered thoughtfully. "_Tick, Tock_?"

"I didn't realize I was that transparent." Dean smiled.

Shelby's kind eyes sparkled with tears. "Maybe I just understand you."

Lazily, Dean slid his fingers along Shelby's jawbone and down the length of her neck. "And maybe that's what I need."

Then Dean kissed her.

Not just any kiss—_this _was the kiss Shelby had waited more than half her life for.

This was the kiss that she had dreamed about at night, while a Boys from the Block CD softly played her to sleep. This was the kiss that filled daydreams and made her run stoplights or cut her finger while she was cooking.

Like Wendy in Summer's favorite story, _Peter Pan_, _this _was Shelby's secret kiss and she was finally giving it to the man it was intended for.

Dean's lips were soft, but in control. He didn't pry for more, though Shelby sensed if she gave him a hint, he would take it. Since she was already having enough trouble breathing, she let things go on as they were. When Dean finally pulled back, he didn't open his eyes, but leaned his forehead against hers and asked, "You okay with that?"

A husky laugh escaped Shelby's tingling lips. "I'm sorry; I can't hear you over the blood pounding in my ears." Still, she managed to lean toward him for more.

Easing back just far enough for him to see her smile, Shelby inquired, "Well?"

Dean was hesitant. "Well _what_?"

Shelby's smile grew. "Doesit have a twist?"

Dean laughed, "I'll just say that the third and the forth, I don't wanna miss."

"Perfect."

Shelby took control again and her surprising caress enveloped Dean's senses in a way that assured the memory of her sweet touch would linger with him during the long drive back to D.C., later that night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Track **FIV**E**

The next afternoon, Kaye picked Shelby up promptly at the agreed upon time and their ride into the city was quick. Most of the traffic moved in the opposite direction and the conversation between the two women was a fun diversion.

They planned to grab dinner before heading to the arena, after which they would relax in one of the spare dressing rooms, Dean had invited them to use. If the guys had the chance, they'd hang out a little before the show started.

That plan made Shelby's stomach flip like she was still in high school. She'd find a way to keep her cool though.

At a deli near the arena, Shelby and Kaye ordered sandwiches, chips, and pickles. Then, they worked their way through the crowded establishment toward one of the small tables.

Picking up the over-sized plastic-wrapped dill pickle she had gotten, Kaye looked at Shelby, raised one brow, and asked, "So, what's your plan for tonight?"

Shelby couldn't stop the laugh that burst from her. "I know what I'd _like_ to happen. I know what _should_ happen. But, I think I'll just go with the flow and see what happens."

Kaye nodded as though seriously contemplating this idea. "That's a good plan. Let me know how that works for you." Then she promptly bit into the pickle with a loud crunch.

Shelby laughed lightly. "What would _you_ do?"

Kaye smiled and picked up her Styrofoam cup. "You must remember that you and I are a bit different. I mean _I'm _not on the rebound."

"I don't think—," she started to say Dean's name, but with the crowd around them being primarily Boys from the Blockfans, Shelby thought better of it. "_He _can't be considered a rebound. It's different with him."

"I'll give you that." Studying her closest friend, Kaye asked, "But where does that put you? I mean, have you thought about this?"

"For years," Shelby replied with a smirk.

"I'm serious. Have you _really _thought about it?"

The tone in Kaye's voice caught Shelby's attention, proving that she was very serious indeed, something Shelby rarely witnessed. Sighing, she responded, "Yeah, I've thought it all through and I'm tired of worrying. What good did it do me before? This is what I want, it looks good, and I'm going to take what I can without regret."

Slowly Kaye smiled. "I'm glad to hear you say so."

At that moment, a group of thirty-something-aged women walked by. They were dressed in Boys from the Blocktee shirts, pins, and nineteen-nineties hairstyles. That's not what caught Shelby and Kaye's attention the most though. It was a comment one of them made. "Oh, what I wouldn't give to meet them, especially Josh." The group continued toward their table and Shelby and Kaye looked at each other.

"That used to be us," Kaye commented with just a bit of regret for the unanswered dreams of the women around them.

"Yeah." Shelby remarked with a smile. "But honey, am I glad it's not anymore."

"Just wait until tomorrow. I bet you'll be even happier yet."

With a dreamy smile, Shelby agreed, "Let's hope so."

While Kaye wandered off in search of Brennan, Shelby remained in the green room to change into her dress. Stepping to the full-length mirror on the wall, she turned side-to-side and viewed how she looked from all angles. Exchanging her usual diamond studs for some gold hoops, she pulled the sides of her hair up with a clip, letting the ends brush against her neck and shoulders.

Squeezing some scented lotion in her hands, Shelby rubbed them together and slid the silkiness up the length of her arms. The door behind her opened and glancing in the mirror, she saw Dean enter.

The instantaneous smile she offered was proof of how pleased she was to see him again.

Shutting the door behind him, Dean closed the distance between them with that confident strut of his. Stopping behind Shelby, he wrapped his arms around her, leaned down and with his lips against her throat, whispered, "You smell as good as you look."

Shelby's knees wobbled and she raised her eyes to meet his in the reflection before them—_There _was a mental shot she would always remember. Smiling, she said to his image, "Click."

Turning her toward him he whispered, "You always know just what to say."

Leaning down, he softly kissed her lips. Shelby slid her arms up around his neck and pulled him closer. Deepening the kiss, she held back a whimper as Dean's hands began to move slowly over her hips, up her sides and back down again. He used his teeth to tease her lips, to draw her in. Every few seconds he would pull back and lock his eyes with hers, then the hazel shade would darken with gold and he would move his mouth toward hers again, his intentions clear.

Shelby felt his fingers brush lightly over the thin straps holding her dress up, sliding them down over her shoulders. His mouth kissed the tingling skin he was baring. His teasing touch continued and he stopped just short of his goal, a seductive laugh passing over his lips.

Then the door to the room opened and they heard, "Oops."

Shelby closed her eyes, causing Dean to laugh. He casually raised his mouth from its obvious position. Deftly, he slipped Shelby's dress back to its original placing and then turned to see Jake, Brennan, and Kaye standing in the doorway.

Jake looked amused.

Brennan looked embarrassed.

Kaye looked thrilled.

"Uh, sorry," Kaye offered, unsure if that were an appropriately strong enough phrase for the moment. Glancing at her friend, she said more sincerely, "Really, I am."

Taking Shelby's hand in his, Dean moved toward the couch a few steps away. Shelby couldn't feel her legs and could only imagine that if things progressed as far as she would like, her nerves would keep her paralyzed for a day or two.

Dean's reply to Kaye was lighthearted. "Don't worry about it. I'm kind of busy soon anyway."

Shelby looked at Kaye, then back to Dean and with a somewhat dazed expression mumbled, "That's right, I _did _come here for something else, didn't I?"

Jake burst into laughter then, which Shelby appreciated since Dean chose that moment to lean in, kiss her cheek and whisper, "Later."

She nodded her head and watched as he moved—very nicely, she thought—toward Jake and the still open door. "We'll see you ladies after the show," Jake informed and together he and Dean left the three women alone.

In complete amazement, Shelby inquired, "Brennan, _how_ do you _do_ that so calmly?"

"To start with, _who _said I'm calm about it?" The threesome laughed together, the sound of it coming forth easily. "Second, Jake and I don't usually have an audience." Grimacing, she added, "Not to say I haven't found myself in a similar . . . ah, _position _as you, a time or two."

"I think that _might_ help a little," Shelby admitted. Finally listening to her shaking legs, she dropped to the couch behind her. Kaye moved in to sit with her and Brennan took the center couch-seat opposite them. "Wow," Shelby stated dumbly.

Brennan smiled with clear understanding. "Don't be embarrassed. There's very little these guys haven't shared. They're brothers more than friends."

Shelby looked toward Kaye then and remarked, "I can't believe you don't have something to say."

Kaye started to speak, stopped and started again. "Believe it or not, I'm a little speechless."

"I'm guessing that doesn't happen very often," Brennan remarked slyly.

"You're right about that." Looking back at Shelby, Kaye took her friends hand in hers, squeezed it, and croaked. "I am so, so, _sooo_, sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Dean was right about the show, so we couldn't have gone much further without stopping anyway." With a smile that was stuck somewhere between shy and craving, Shelby added, "Besides, I'm pretty sure we're not gonna let this one slide."

"You better not," Brennan threw in. When the pair on the couch looked at her in question, she offered, "Like I said, those guys are brothers. I can tell you that this attraction is not at all one-sided."

Shelby covered her ears, stomped her feet and squealed, letting loose all of the giddiness she had been holding in for about the last twenty-four hours. Kaye and Brennan laughed. "I just have one question," Kaye muttered.

"What's that?'

"Which brother do _I _get?"

Brennan responded secretly, "I have a fairly decent guess at that one too."

And, like a group of schoolgirls at a slumber party, Brennan, Shelby, and Kaye passed the next twenty minutes before the concert, in a gossip huddle.

Since Boston, Kaye and Shelby had studied the lyrics to _Around the Block _as though they were going to be tested. Now when the concert started they were able to anticipate each song and sing along with fantastic abandon.

From the side-stage Shelby, Kaye and Brennan's view was a bit more inhibited than seats in the front, still the perks were obvious—a special smile or wink from the guys as they passed by for a quick drink, to wipe their brow or to change outfits. Shelby especially liked it when Dean had about ten seconds to spare, jogged to her side, gave her a quick peck on the lips and ran out right on cue.

When he broke into _Give You_ and hit the line, 'Got to prove it', Shelby leaned toward Kaye and said, "I need you to pinch me." Kaye laughed, obliging her friend with a light squeeze on the back of her arm.

Jared calmed the crowd, at least to some degree, with the ballad, _You're Breakin' My Heart in Two_ before they rolled into _Tick Tock_. Next was their small, round-stage performance and then they were back to the main stage for the solo set.

When a squealing guitar heralded the beginning of _Perfect Girl_, Shelby couldn't hold back the smile that filled her features. Dean swaggered around the stage through the first verse and when the chorus began, he ran directly toward her, grabbed her hand, and dragged her onto the stage with him.

If there had been enough time, Shelby would have definitely been sick.

Then Dean began to sing to her, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he sang to _her_. Shelby could do no more than smile, shock filling her completely. During the final instrumental break, Dean grabbed her waist, dipped her back, smiled for her benefit alone and planted a kiss on her that the entire arena howling.

Returning her upright, he leaned close to ask, "Is that enough to hold you over?" Shelby laughed, pulled him back, and kissed him just as deeply as he had her. Dean was so surprised that he missed the next line of the song. He recovered quickly however, and to Shelby's delight, looked directly into her shining eyes while singing the words, "I've always needed . . ."

The song ended and after an encouraged bow, Shelby ran back to her spot with Brennan and Kaye. The threesome shared in a girlish scream to rival the ones coming from the celebrating fans.

Watching the rest of the performance, hearing the roar of the crowd and getting the new viewpoint of the guys working together, besieged Shelby with the reality of what was happening in her life. She was giddy and terrified at the same time and the quick concern crossed her mind, _What do I have to dream about now? _

Her argumentative-self readily responded, _You'll find something._

A break in the music gave the guy's time to toy with their audience, before moving into _Gonna Get to You_ and then they were backstage by the women again. They waited, laughing, joking, and jumping around to keep the adrenaline pumping. The crowd began to get restless, chant, and demand an encore. The guys didn't disappoint and together they ran out on stage, beginning the popular "oh's" of _Tough Enough_.

Just like every other concert of Boys from the Block that Kaye and Shelby had ever seen, the crowd swung their arms from side-to-side in unison with the guy's direction. When the encore finished, the group gave the fans more interaction before a final bow and huddle, then ran off-stage for the night.

Shelby, Kaye, and Brennan stood by in the locker room housing the group's belongings. The acoustics, so good for pre-show practices, were now a sounding board for the post-show adrenaline still pumping through the _boys_. Though after a performance like the one they had just given the nation's capital, it was amazing that they had any energy left.

To no one in particular, Jared announced, "We have to be in Ohio the day after tomorrow, Kentucky the next day and then on to South Carolina." His stage-high apparently ending, he flopped down on one of the benches in front of the lockers and groaned, "If we keep this up, I might start to feel as old as I am."

"Look at the bright side, in three weeks we'll be in Orlando. Plenty of fun in the sun can make anyone feel like a kid again," Brennan encouraged.

"Is Erin going to meet you there with the boys?" Kaye asked of Jared.

He nodded, "That's the plan. We worked it out so that we do our show on a Tuesday, and then hang out with our families until Saturday's show in Miami."

"Are everybody's families going this time?" Brennan asked curiously.

"David's live in Miami, so they'll just drive up. Erin, Logan and Marcus will be there, so that takes care of Josh and me." Subconsciously, Jared's eyes swung in Shelby's direction as he added, "We haven't heard from Kendra, but that's her way."

Dean looked disgusted, but then shook it off as he walked toward Shelby and without hesitation put his hand on the small of her back. "I need to call her again."

"Well if you'd ever check your messages, you'd know there's no need to do that. I brought the boys here." All eyes shifted to Kendra as she fully entered the room like she owned it, which, at the moment, she did.

Dean didn't move his position from Shelby; if anything, he seemed to move a little closer. "Where they at?"

Kendra rolled her eyes as though her ex-husband should already know the answer to his question. "They're with Dad. They're already whacked out from the time change. I wasn't going to bring them to a noisy show and risk a tantrum just so you could see them a few hours sooner." Without pause, Kendra's eyes flicked over Shelby. "Especially when I never know _who _might be with you after a show."

"Your choice," Dean reminded shortly.

"Yeah, your _new _friend proves how hard it's been on you," Kendra remarked sarcastically.

Dean didn't have time to counter. Shelby was tired of being talked around, especially with all the underlying implications. Boldly, she introduced, "My _name _is Shelby Powell."

Kendra repeated her sizing-up of the other woman, obviously came to some conclusion, and moved her gaze back to Dean. As though Shelby hadn't uttered a word, Kendra questioned, "When you want to see the boys?"

"All the time," he replied immediately and Shelby's heart twisted in her chest.

Fixing her gaze pointedly on Shelby again, Kendra opinionated to Dean, "As long as you aren't preoccupied."

Shelby had never in her life wanted to start a fight as much as she wanted to now. Surprising everyone, including herself, she voiced in a very haughty manner, "Must be hard to see the truth from your _new _outside view."

Kendra's dark eyes narrowed. "It don't matter where you look from. If you've seen one, you've seen them all."

"You better look a little harder this time," Shelby suggested blatantly.

"All I really care about is if you're going to keep trailing after Dean, how much time you're gonna be with _my_ children?"

"_Our _children," Dean corrected quickly.

In that instant, Shelby got a feel for the proverbial shoe on the other foot. A small part of her wanted to hide away from the shame it made her feel. Then she remembered she was doing nothing wrong. Continuing to give the same attitude she was receiving, Shelby replied, "That's up to Dean. I have my _own_ daughter to take care of."

A new light filled Kendra's eyes. "I see." Then to Dean she remarked, "_That's_ different."

Not rising to the bait, Dean informed, "I'll see you tomorrow, around three. Your dad gonna have a problem with that?"

Kendra shook her head, "No, that'll be good. I'll see you then."

Looking at the entire group, she complimented, "Good show," and left the room just as quickly as she had entered it.

Kaye was the first to comment on the scene, "Shelby, I am so proud of you."

The laugh that escaped Shelby was nervous. Turning her head toward Dean, she searched his eyes. "I'm sorry about that. I don't usually go off so quickly like that. She just pissed me off."

Dean smiled. "Kendra's got a tendency of doing that to people."

"You can say that again," David seconded.

Plans had been made earlier for everyone to crash at the house Jared had purchased with Kaye's help a few months before. Suddenly, Shelby was anxious to get there for an altogether different reason than she had been an hour ago. Emotionally drained, she felt very tired and her body language must have conveyed as much because as everyone began gathering the items they wanted to take with them, Dean whispered, "Don't back out on me now."

His grin was teasing but Shelby knew that if she truly changed her mind, it would be okay; chances of that happening were slim-to-none though, and she assured Dean, "It would take a _lot_ more than Kendra to change my mind."

"Hey," Kaye called softly, averting Shelby and Dean's attention to her approach. With her fisted hand held out in front of her, she dropped a key into Shelby's palm. "You remember how to get there?"

Shelby could have laughed and cried at the same moment. It was the key to Kaye's apartment, the one in D.C., which she kept for nights it was easier to stay in the city, than to return home after work. Meeting her eyes, Shelby asked, "Are you sure? We were just going to go back to Jared's with everyone else."

Kaye nodded, "I'm sure. You guys should have privacy." Squeezing her dear friend's hand, she added, "You really deserve it." David chose that moment to step up beside Kaye and she grinned playfully at Shelby. "Besides, I think I might be able to come up with a plan or two of my own tonight." Sidetracked by talking to someone across the room, David missed the little exchange around him.

"I don't doubt it," Dean informed Kaye, before bidding his friend's farewell. He grabbed Shelby's hand and pulled her out of the room toward one of the rental cars waiting in the performers parking area.


End file.
